A/N: Now that I'm back into it, this story is quite addictive! As usual, my thanks to Xrost for giving invaluable feedback and suggestions.

Chapter Eleven

Tokyo, May 31, 2002

Haruka collapsed onto her unmade bed and breathed in the scent of Michiru. A monster of pain and confusion felt like it was trying to claw its way out of the pit of her stomach. She couldn't stop herself from remembering the night before; couldn't stop herself wishing she hadn't sent Michiru away. They could have still been together. Haruka could have been lost in passion with her right now. She moved her hand, touching herself in the place where Michiru had before.

What sort of person was she, to reject the love of the only woman she wanted in her heart? How could she have watched so coldly as she made the light of hope die in her lover's eyes?

Michiru was right. Haruka couldn't let her go, but she couldn't accept her either. That night on the Hill, her trust had been too badly broken. Even when she tried to heal and forgive, she only caused Michiru more pain. The Space Sword remained in jealous possession of her blood, and Michiru was forced to bear the scar of its hate.

Haruka really wasn't a soldier of love at all.

How dead Michiru's tone had been when Haruka finally saw the wound. That alone told her the pain was so deep Michiru couldn't afford to let herself feel it to its full extent.

All because Michiru had tried to save the life of a frightened young girl trapped in a nightmare not of her own making.

All because Haruka was lying to herself about what she really felt.

The truth was that Uranus the soldier, whose only concern was to win battles and protect the Princess, would have forgiven Neptune long ago for the sake of the greater good. But it hadn't happened because Haruka was too deeply hurt. Michiru was the first person in her life who she'd ever learned to trust, and Haruka couldn't stand the fact that Michiru had lied to her and hurt her, no matter what the circumstances were.

That night on the Hill, Michiru showed everyone her fears, her insecurities. All the things she had never shared with anyone else. Uranus might have been objective enough to forgive such a desperate tactic, but Haruka couldn't. Because this distrust did not have its origins in Uranus and Neptune standing against each other as soldiers. This was about Haruka feeling betrayed by her lover, and not able to forgive her. This was about Haruka being too afraid to ask for forgiveness herself, given what she had done to Michiru in return.

Haruka's communicator began to beep madly. She was already on the point of blurting out Michiru's name as she answered, but it was Setsuna's worried voice she heard.

"Haruka? Is Michiru still with you? She hasn't come home, she isn't answering her communicator and apparently she hasn't shown up to her music rehearsal either. What's going on?"

Cold, uneasy fingers tapped on Haruka's spine. She could hardly speak through the lump in her throat. "No. Michiru's not here. I don't know where she is."

"Haruka talk to me. Tell me what's happened."

"I can't. I have to go. Bye."

Haruka rang off in the middle of an enraged swear word.

She pounded downstairs, searching for her Sword. As she half suspected, it was gone, along with Michiru's Mirror. There was an unmarked cassette tape sitting on the coffee table that hadn't been there the night before.

With shaking hands Haruka put it into the stereo and listened. What she heard was undoubtedly Michiru's playing, probably a practice session she'd recorded to listen to later. The music was the Rite of Spring.

Haruka's eyes widened. "Oh crap," she said, as black fear covered her heart.

In a small park above the city, Michiru sat with her eyes closed and her face tilted up towards the sun. As if thinking of someone else's life, she remembered that tonight was supposed to be the final performance of the Rite of Spring. She smiled bitterly. How appropriate. But tonight, someone else would have to take her place on the stage. Her best and last performance was one that no one would ever see.

It was a relief, in a way, to feel peace at last. She had no anger left. No pain. No despair. No hope. She was emptied of everything but the desire to die as a soldier should. She'd been carrying a fatal wound for a long time and now, finally, she could be free of the torment.

Michiru alone would take the fight to Metalia. She would have her revenge against the one who had taken everything from her.

Life. Love. Sacrifice.

If Haruka was right, and they weren't meant to know human desires, then soldiers was all that they were and Michiru knew she couldn't exist like that. She didn't want to. She'd rather die to protect all the Tamikos of the world and let them live on in her place.

She picked up her own Mirror and Haruka's Sword. It was time to go.

Haruka rushed into the park. She could feel that Michiru had been here. Her skin prickled with the energy of her recent transformation. The disturbance of the air told her she had only just taken flight.

Michiru wasn't waiting any longer. She was taking the fight to Metalia. She was going to die.

There were too many dead girls in Haruka's world.

Haruka didn't even consider calling the others. Every assault against Metalia had failed. In all likelihood, this one would as well. And they couldn't all afford to die. Someone would have to survive to carry on the fight.

But Haruka wasn't going to let Michiru face this on her own. She was going to be where she should have been all this time. At Michiru's side, fighting with her. Fighting for her. If that meant they were going to die together today, Haruka didn't mind.

She didn't want to live in a world without Michiru.

It was a long and lonely journey to that far distant solar system. Neptune was surprised she met no resistance along the way. Outer space was empty and silent. Even as she drew near to Adara, the planet Metalia had enslaved, there were no enemies in sight. Something about it made Neptune's blood stir uneasily. Metalia almost seemed to be inviting her.

Neptune had previously been told there was only one way to access Metalia's palace in the sun. On a small, rocky island locked in stormy seas, very far away from the nearest human habitation, there was a temple dedicated to the so-called goddess. Within the inner sanctum of that temple was a portal that connected to the palace. One of the priestesses had secretly helped the soldiers from time to time, which was how they had managed to make incursions before.

In a light squall of rain, Neptune landed on the island. She didn't bother to be cautious. The sooner she was captured, the sooner she would be taken to Metalia. But no one challenged her. There were no guards posted around the temple. She approached and entered cautiously, Mirror and Sword ready. Still she saw no one. She was able to walk without hindrance right into the chamber where the golden portal-stone rested on its pedestal.

At this point, Neptune paused. It was so obvious Metalia had laid some kind of trap. But what kind exactly? Clearly she had been forewarned of Neptune's coming, either by sentries or magic or some other means. Clearly she wanted Neptune to come. Clearly she must think it would be to her advantage.

Was it simply that Metalia wanted the pleasure of killing Neptune? It must be more than that. As Uranus had said, Metalia already had vast legions at her disposal. She could have sent her full power against the sailor soldiers any time she wanted to, killing all of them and enslaving the Earth. But she'd always been waiting. Waiting for something they couldn't see. Perhaps Neptune was about to finally find out what it was. She placed her hand on the portal, and entered the palace in the heart of Metalia's sun.

There were two sparklers waiting for her at the other end. They didn't try to attack, merely hissed at Neptune and motioned for her to follow. Part of her wanted to destroy them out of pure contrariness, but really, that would only delay her true object. She nodded her head slightly and allowed them to lead her through a series of labyrinthine halls. Everything around her was made of some polished marble-like substance. White walls, white floor, grotesque white statues showing writhing figures in attitudes of torture that Neptune didn't care to examine too closely.

And above them, held back by the force field, burned the glowing, molten fire of the sun. The steady roar of it was just like Neptune's dream. Even before they got there, she knew where the sparklers were taking her.

A pair of great golden doors opened inwards, revealing the domed hallway Neptune had already seen. At the sparklers' insistence, she entered. The doors closed behind her. She lifted her head and looked into the glowing eyes of her Enemy.

Metalia smiled. "At last we meet, my lost soldier. I've been waiting for you." Her voice was nothing more than a soft and vicious whisper.

Neptune approached the throne, eyes searching for hidden opponents. She felt nothing like the misplaced confidence of her dream, but nevertheless she spoke proudly.

"I am not your soldier. I serve the Princess of the Moon. Why have you allowed me to come here? You know I intend to destroy you."

Gleeful malice flickered through Metalia's eyes, but she didn't answer. She was watching Neptune with an eagerly expectant air.

Anger flamed in Neptune's cheeks. "Fine. Let me tell you what I think, then. Three years ago, you could have sent an army against us. Instead, you sent a terrified twelve year old girl. She was supposed to divide us, wasn't she? She was never supposed to be a successful assassin. You hoped that for at least one of us, our desire to protect Sailor Moon wouldn't be strong enough to stop us from trying to help Tamiko. You hoped it would result in conflict. You hoped it would break our power. Congratulations, you won.

"You succeeded in driving me away. You succeeded in making me hate myself. You succeeded in crippling the power I once possessed. You allowed me to come here only now because you think I am sufficiently broken for whatever purpose you have in mind. And I am broken; I don't deny it. But you are the one who took everything from me. Whatever you have planned, it doesn't matter. I'll still live long enough to kill you."

At last, Metalia rose gracefully from her throne and approached Neptune like a tiger stalking its prey. A quiet smile played at the corners of her lips. They were almost close enough to touch when Neptune raised the Sword at her, warningly.

Metalia's smile grew wider in an undisguised declaration of triumph. Her eyes burned fervently as she looked at the Sword, and Neptune felt the ice of uncertainty creeping into her heart.

Sailor weapons were sacred, and did not respond to the touch of an Enemy. So why was Metalia regarding the Sword with such lust?

Metalia flicked her gaze to Neptune's face. "You're right of course in everything you say. But you still don't know the best part. That night on the Hill, I could see through Tamiko's eyes. I saw Uranus's weakness in your Mirror. I saw how she loved you. How she trusted you. I saw her pain at your betrayal. How easy it was to use that against her."

"Uranus isn't here!"

"No, but her weapon is."

With a sharp motion of her hand, not needing to make physical contact, Metalia twisted the Sword from Neptune's grasp. It flew to hover in front of her, dipping and dancing at her command. Not once did she need to touch it.

The Sword started to glow, just like it had in Haruka's apartment. Steadily increasing waves of golden light spilled into the room, making Neptune's scar burn.

So, Metalia had found a way to manipulate the Sword. That was why it had been glowing the night before. That was why Metalia had finally let Neptune come. Because she knew her power had grown enough to control the Sword. Because she knew that now she could kill Neptune with it.

But Neptune still had her Mirror. She raised it with a cry and sent a swathe of silver light towards her Enemy. Long before the light reached her, Metalia used the Sword to slice it to pieces.

With cruel delight in her eyes she watched Neptune flounder. Slowly, she closed her hand into a fist, changing the intensity of the Sword's aura. The pain of fire seared through Neptune's scar, and she dropped to her knees, gasping. Reflexively, she scrabbled at her chest, feeling wet, hot blood on her hand. The wound was no longer closed.

Metalia approached Neptune, regal and merciless. "You're learning, Neptune. You know now I can control the Sword. You know I am going to kill you with it. But you still don't know why."

"Then tell me," said Neptune. "I want to know." She looked up at Metalia with what she hoped was an expression of servile defeat. If she was to have any chance of fighting this, she had to know what she was up against.

"Your power – the power of Sailor Moon and all the Sailor Soldiers – comes from love."

"I know that," Neptune gritted out.

"Ah, but what you don't know is that if one sailor soldier deliberately kills another in hate with her own sacred weapon, the power of the senshi will be broken. Sailor Moon will die. The silver crystal will shatter. All the rest of you will be rendered mortal and powerless and as easy to kill as the next little girl. None of you will be reincarnated ever again. Nothing will be able to bring your magic back.

"Not even Pluto remembers that ancient curse anymore, but I do. I will use it to break the power of the senshi and finally gain control of the galaxy. That night on the Hill when Uranus struck you, the process began. Her Sword was tainted with hate, and it's been growing stronger ever since. You can feel it now, coursing through your body. It is why the Sword responds to me. Uranus's hatred for you has made it mine."

Metalia drew closer, almost bending over Neptune as she delivered her final taunt of triumph.

"Your blood is the key to my victory. You will die here, killed by your lover's sword, and with the final expulsion of your breath will come the end of everything you fought to protect. The dark has won."

Neptune saw the Sword falling towards her in a lethal shower of golden sparks. It was exactly like the image she had seen in her Mirror. She cursed herself for her stupidity, for not trusting the truth of her Talisman. The Mirror hadn't been showing her the past at all. It had been warning her of the future.

Her blood. She would not allow her blood to cause the destruction of everything she loved. Her blood was still in the Sword. Metalia wasn't the only one to whom the Sword would respond.

"No!" As the Sword fell, Neptune raised her hands like a shield. Two inches away it stopped, its point hovering precariously near to her chest. Amongst the burning gold, a thin crimson thread glinted on the shaft. Neptune knew it was her blood. The bit of her Uranus had kept, all this time. She could feel the rest of her blood stirring, longing to be reunited with this lost piece of herself. Tiny red bubbles floated past her and embedded themselves in the Sword. The crimson thread grew brighter.

Metalia's eyes darkened in rage. "Stop fighting, Neptune. You cannot hope to win against this hate." She ruthlessly drove the Sword forward, until its tip pierced Neptune's flesh. The pain was unbearable. A scream was torn, unwilling, from Neptune's throat. Every muscle in her body was straining to try and hold back the Sword.

Still Metalia's voice went on, relentless poison whispering in Neptune's ear. "Why would you want to live, knowing this is what Uranus feels for you? Even after you gave yourself to her. Even after you admitted your love."

"You were w-watching us?" Neptune felt sick at the perversion.

Metalia gave her an evil smile. "That was why I sent the rain."

The arrogance of that smile unleashed a wave of fury in Neptune's mind as at last she understood. She and Uranus, they'd both been manipulated right from the beginning. Every thing they'd done to hurt themselves, hurt each other, had only been bringing them closer to the fulfilment of Metalia's sadistic plan to break the power of the soldiers forever.

But Neptune wouldn't allow it to happen. However far she had fallen, she would not abandon her duty. She would not abandon her Princess. Metalia was the one who had stolen her honour, and Neptune was going to take it back. Take it back for herself, as Uranus had told her she should.

She closed her eyes and drew in a breath, trying to prepare herself for what was to come. Any moment now she was going to lose control; she could feel it. She had to act before then. Act before Metalia could trigger the curse.

With a savage cry Neptune wrenched herself forward, deliberately impaling herself on the Sword. It was like a living flame entering her body, burning her from the inside out. Emotions overwhelmed her. Uranus's storms of turmoil and pain, her anger, her loneliness, her desire to destroy the one who had caused all this hurt. The hatred should have been killing her, but Neptune refused to acknowledge this was the truth of Uranus's heart. This was only what Metalia had done.

The night before Neptune had seen a different Uranus. She remembered the gentleness of her hands as she soothed Neptune's scar, the reverence of her lips when they kissed. Uranus had loved her then. Neptune had felt it in her touch.

A pulse of warm light kindled in Neptune's heart. She knew it was Uranus. She didn't know where she was, only that she was nearby, fighting with all of her strength to reach her. Fierce, noble and pure, Uranus's spirit shone, gifting Neptune with the precious conviction of trust. For a moment, there was the sense of sweet, hot breath on the back of her neck, and Uranus's voice whispered I love you.

The Sword shuddered in Neptune's chest as it was suddenly cleansed of hatred. Metalia stumbled, her concentration slipping in pure shock. Neptune took her chance. Teeth grating in agony, she grasped the hilt of the Sword and pulled it from her chest. It was bathed in the crimson light of her blood. She knew she was mortally wounded; that she had only minutes left to live. But it would be long enough to accomplish her goal.

With blood running freely from her breast, Neptune forced herself to her feet. She looked Metalia proudly in the eye. "This weapon belongs to a soldier of love. You don't know anything about that. You've perverted the Sword from its true purpose. But I will show you what it is."

Neptune cleaved through Metalia's defences to bury the Sword deep in the heart of her flames. In an effort to evade her, Metalia shed her human form, revealing her true self to be a demon of fire burning forever with hate. Still Neptune and the Sword did not falter. There could be no escape from the incorruptible power Neptune wielded in her hand. Through the medium of the Sword, she felt her own wet blood mingling with Metalia's fire, and heard Metalia scream.

Darkness started to flicker at the edges of Neptune's vision. When she moved, she felt the insides of her shoes sticky with blood. How much had she lost by now? How much more would it take to finish her Enemy? Stubbornly, she shored up her will and stared doggedly into Metalia's distorted face of flames. Her Mirror was ready in her left hand.

"Submarine Reflection!"

In the silver light, Neptune saw Metalia's weakness. Her burned and shrivelled heart, seeking always to destroy, purged of the ability to bear any emotion but hate.

Drenched in Neptune's blood, the Sword touched Metalia's heart. The blood of love. The blood of sacrifice. The blood of life. Metalia's golden flames turned red as Neptune's blood spread through her veins, overwhelming hatred with what it couldn't understand.

At last, Neptune pulled out the Sword and watched with detached compassion as Metalia thrashed before her. Doubled over, shoulders shaking, the demon wept as her inundated senses tried to comprehend what she perhaps had never known in the first place. "What have you done to me? What are these – these feelings?"

"This is humanity," said Neptune softly. "This is what we fight for."

Golden fire flickered in Metalia's fingertips. Her expression hardened into its old pattern of hate and her tears evaporated into smoke. "I won't let you infect me like this. My immortal flame will overcome—"

She spoke no more. Neptune sent a great wave of water crashing down upon her, obliterating what was left of her flames. When the water cleared, there was only a blackened stain on the polished white floor. Metalia was vanquished, for the third and final time.

Neptune staggered and fell as the very foundations of the Palace shook. She had no energy left to rise. Looking down at herself, all she saw was her blood. The taste of it was in the back of her throat, metallic and bitter. Above her, the force field flickered. It was the only thing holding back the sun. She hoped that she went before the roof collapsed. She didn't want to die in fire.

Strangely, she thought she heard Uranus's voice, calling her name with near-mad desperation. As if in a dream she saw the tall beautiful senshi of the sky appear before her, the fresh burns on her skin telling tale of battle. With the last of her strength, Neptune thrust the Sword towards her.

"Take it," she whispered, not really sure this wasn't an illusion. "Carry what's left of me with you, please."

Uranus shook her head. "Sorry Neptune. That's just not good enough." So saying, she swept up Neptune and the Talismans and ran faster than the wind through the falling palace. The flames of the sun roared at her heels. They made it to the portal just in time.

As they landed back in the temple, Uranus felt the collapse of Metalia's palace in her bones. A muffled explosion seemed to echo through the air, just on the edges of hearing. All around her the planet itself seemed to sigh in relief as it was freed from the grip of terror. Metalia's reign had ended.

Yet Uranus was crying as she gently lowered Neptune to the floor. She could hardly stand to look at the gaping wound in her chest; the wound that she herself had originally caused. Neptune's blood was all over both of them, thick and red. Somehow, though, she was still breathing. She was still just alive.

Would it work, if Uranus tried to heal her? Last time, she had only succeeded in causing Neptune pain, but that was before the Sword was cleansed. This time, her intent would be pure. Two handed, she raised the Sword above Neptune's chest, almost in an attitude of prayer. "Please Sword," she murmured. "Give back Neptune's blood. Give back everything I took from her."

Neptune was enveloped in gentle crimson light as energy began to flow from the Sword. Uranus didn't really know what she was doing, but the Sword seemed to guide her. She closed her eyes and felt Neptune's essence returning to where it should be, the infusion of power giving her body what it needed to heal. Even her skin knitted back together again as if the wound had never been.

The only word Uranus could think of to describe the experience was sacred. It was like what she had felt in Metalia's palace, the moment she and Neptune connected. Refusing to believe Uranus would kill, Neptune had submitted willingly to the Sword, bringing with her the memory of things Metalia would never understand. Uranus had felt her love, her trust, her determination to act with honour. Hate was no answer to such an offering. Trusting Neptune with her Sword, Uranus had loved her instead.

Shaking with exhaustion and elation, Uranus was jolted out of her trance as the healing finished. She checked Neptune with quick and anxious fingers. Her uniform was still bloodied and torn, but the skin beneath was whole. Fresh wound and old scar; both were gone. Her breaths were steady, her heartbeat sure. She wasn't going to die.

Uranus lowered her head wordlessly in thanks.

It was only then her own injuries began to assert themselves. She'd had to fight her way to Neptune and Metalia, through seemingly endless ranks of demons. Most of them had been fire monsters, and she'd acquired more than a few burns. Already her skin was starting to blister and peel.

Nevertheless, she leapt to her feet as she heard someone approaching, Space Sword in hand. She relaxed only slightly when she saw the intruder was the priestess who had sometimes helped the soldiers in the past.

The priestess approached cautiously, holding her hands out to show she meant no harm. "It's…Uranus isn't it? What's going on?"

"Metalia is dead," Uranus said flatly. "My partner Neptune killed her. We need to get home."

"But your injuries…"

"Just look after her." It was the last thing Uranus said before she collapsed onto the floor at Neptune's side, unconsciousness overtaking her.

Noticing the communicator flashing madly on Uranus's wrist, the priestess stooped down beside her. She pressed a button and spoke into it, hoping for the best. "Hello? My name is Maya, second priestess of the inner temple on Adara. There are two sailor soldiers here, alive but injured. One of them just said Metalia is dead. I think someone had better come and collect them. I'll look after them until you arrive. Please, travel quickly. I don't know what's going to happen."

Back on Earth, Setsuna started swearing again.